Once Upon a Dream
by Aaron Ledgers
Summary: Frosty would have been just another face in the crowd if she hadn't been hiding a huge pair of wings under her clothes: in a world where everything is supposed to be normal, an angel walks among humanity in total confusion, not knowing why she exists. For the most part, she's had a somewhat normal life... but that comes to an end when she's literally dragged into another dimension.
1. Prologue: I've Got a Secret

**HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON  
...Once Upon a Dream...**

**Written By Aaron Ledgers**

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**Important Author's Note:**** This story is actually going to be very complicated and conv****oluted in the beginning as far as the HTTYD plotline is concerned, but to those of you who will begin wondering where Frosty falls into the story as far as timelines go, this is about six months before Hiccup found toothless. Hence why they won't show up until later chapters, after she actually falls into the story.**

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**Prologue: "I've got a Secret..."**

When my eyes drifted open and I saw the time on my alarm clock, I let out a sigh: it was almost time for school.

My worst nightmare... ugh.

I closed my eyes again and prayed to God that time would slow down so I wouldn't have to go. The weekend was over and classes were going to start whether I wanted them to or not... but I couldn't stop hoping that I'd be able to get out of another week of pointless bullying. Unfortunately, my prayer was in vain: the alarm clock went off only a few seconds later, and I slowly sat up in bed.

After letting out a small yawn, I brushed a few tangled strands of my snowy hair out of my eyes and switched the button to turn off my electric clock. Then I got out of bed, enjoying the cold sensation of my long tresses sliding over my bare shoulders: I had always been proud of my hair because it was the one thing on me that was completely beautiful.

However, other people sometimes don't see it that way since my appearance draws a lot of unwanted attention.

Don't get me wrong, though: it isn't as though being bullied by people bothers me all that much.

I mean, I can take being shoved into the lockers by a jerk who has too big of an ego; I can take being punched in the face by a girl who doesn't even know me thanks to a stupid rumor. I can take being harassed by perverts at school and being mocked by the teachers in the few classes I actually _participate_ in. I learned a long time ago that an unusual appearance will draw the attention of everyone around you, regardless of how much you try to hide in the shadows... after all, envy is the cause of the harassment _and _the flirtations that most girls deal with in day-to-day life.

I honestly think it's kind of funny: after all, I didn't exactly have a say in how I was born, ya know?

None of them know who I really am, and deep down, I know they probably never will: I'll either be just another nameless punching bag or a trophy to be draped over someone's shoulder. In the end, I'm not identified by who I am as a person... I'm identified by the way I look. If I'm too perfect, I'm a goody goody or a Mary-sue... if I'm flawed, I'm ugly and unapproachable. Sadly, I could care less about labels: I'm me, and that's never gonna change, so why should I try to act like it will?

Then again... there _is_ a part of me that is afraid of what might happen if someone gets too close. That part of me is _also_ terrified that someone will notice something is very… _different _about me. At least, _different_ when compared to the rest of society. Ever since my family moved to this city, I've hated my new school because it makes that small, distant part of my soul burn with a deep, ingrained fear: it makes me feel paranoid that someone will discover my secret. Even on a good day, I can never change my clothes in a public area, I can't swim in a pool or the ocean, and I'm constantly looking over my shoulder to see if my back looks bulky.

My name is Serenity Primrose... and I am a freak.

Oh, wait... let me guess: you're probably thinking my name is weird now, aren't you?

Or maybe even a tad bit 'Mary Sue'-ish?

Yeah, I've gotten that before... but let me say it clearly so I don't have to explain it later on: I really don't give a damn what _you_ think.

If you feel like my name is so _perfect_ that it's actually _unappealing, _just be happy that you're not stuck with it: I, for one, am proud of my name because it's unique, and I really could care less if other people say it's too perfect. In a way, it's more of a compliment than an insult... but seriously, it's not like I was able to choose my own name in the first place, or even the way I look for that matter; I am the way I am, end of story.

So... just, get over it or something if it bothers you.

Anyway, back to business... I moved to Chicago only last month, but I was born in the northernmost part of Alaska. I don't remember my father all that much because he died when I was three years old, but I have a mom who doesn't exactly know how to act around me. I'm always quiet around her these days, and sometimes I hear her talking with my step-father about where she went wrong with me. You see, compared to when I was a little girl, I've pretty much become a mute around my family due to some seriously twisted situations.

My mother knows nothing about my step-father's actions: to her, he is the perfect man.

To me, he is a monster... and I honestly wish he would die.

That's how much I hate him.

School is pretty much the same story: I never talk, I never try to socialize, and I ignore the majority of my classmates. I'm a proud, independent fifteen year old girl, but I'm also really tiny and that gives people an advantage over me. If you don't understand what I mean and you need a clearer image, then I'll put it like this: picture a small, extremely skinny girl with white hair, white eyelashes, and garishly bright pink eyes... if you can imagine that, you'll have an idea of what I look like. If you want a technical description, I'm four feet and eight inches tall, I weigh virtually nothing compared to other girls, and several guys in my class have already made it a hobby to pick me up and throw me like a football. If you still don't have an idea, tough luck: I tried my best.

In the end, regardless of what I've told you about myself, I'm still a freak.

I used to think of myself as a normal girl—and maybe I was before the events of two years ago… but now, I'm fairly certain that my life is _anything_ but average. What happened to me back then completely marked me as a monster, and I'm still coping with the shock of finding out that my entire life was a lie. Those moments were the most painful I've ever experienced... and I'll never forget how it happened.

You see, two years ago, I was actually a lot more social than I am right now: I had three of the greatest friends you could ever hope to imagine. The four of us were stuck together with a bond that ran extremely deep, so it wasn't any surprise that they noticed it when I started having problems with my back. Before my grip on reality collapsed, I was pretty much the baby sister in our happy little group because of how frail I seemed: I was always getting fevers back then, and at times I was bedridden for several days.

Angela... Jessica... and Bethany.

Those three girls were the older sisters I'd never had: they had been there for me since I was two years old.

However, on the night that my life changed forever, all three of them were there. If you're thinking that they did something terrible after finding out my dark and dreary secret, you're absolutely wrong: it only made them more protective of me. That night, they had picked me up to come stay for a few days since my Mom was leaving on a business trip and they knew what my step-dad was like.

I had been having back pains for several days, but I'd only thought I'd been sleeping on my shoulders wrong until the fever hit me.

One minute my friends and I were having a fun-filled pillow fight, the next I was on the ground and barely able to move: they began asking questions about my back when I told them it was hurting, and when the oldest girl, Jessica, removed my shirt... I remember seeing her face turn bone white. All three of my friends began to panic because something was swelling up beneath my skin. There were two huge bulges beneath my shoulder blades, and my skin had stretched to the point where I'd started bleeding beneath it.

My friends tended to me for several hours, but when the bulges began turning purple and continued to grow, Angela and Jessica began arguing about what to do. However, that's when the skin on the left protrusion split open; I remember feeling rivulets blood streaming from the tear in my skin and dripping down my sides. The pain was so bad that I'd even started crying; I'd wanted to scream, but I couldn't since I hadn't been able to draw in enough air: it was almost as though I'd been winded. Then the other bulge split right down the middle, and blood flew from my back.

Bethany flinched when a bit of it hit her on the cheek, but that was all it took to spring my friends into action: Beth ran to the kitchen for a rag, Angela filled a bucket with hot water, and Jessica wrapped a sock around her thumb and told me to bite on it. I hadn't been able to do anything but obey: I'd been in _way_ too much pain. Then, almost abruptly, had felt as though a huge pressure in my back had suddenly been released all at once.

A few days after everything had settled down, Jessica calmly tried to explain that it had looked like two huge bones had been sliding out of my back. She had told me, in great detail, that the protrusions had continued to slide through the wide tears in my skin, but personally, it had simply felt as though my back had been ripped open by a huge carving knife.

I hadn't exactly known how to handle the agony.

I'd wanted it to end, wanted the ripping sensation to finish and allow me to relax.

I hadn't gotten my wish...

That night, those protrusions had slid outward, and three sets of eyes had widened in horror.

Out came blood-stained feathers and bony joints... and then... two enormous, blood-soaked wings slid out of my back and unfurled themselves right in front of my surrogate family... but when those enormous wings snapped open wide, I felt as though the world around me had suddenly changed. I remembered letting out a screech as the ripping sensation intensified... but then I'd collapsed onto my stomach. Soon after that, the pain began to fade... and I closed my eyes as a numbing sensation filled me. I don't know how long I was lying on Bethany's bed, but when I tried to open my eyes again, I couldn't do it.

I'd wanted to see what had happened to me... wanted someone to tell me that I would be okay.

What I got instead deepened the bonds between my friends and myself.

Jessica and Bethany took care of me while Angela looked up information on how to clean blood-stained bird's wings using her computer: all three of them took care of my injuries, cleaned my wings with bristle brushes and soapy water, and pampered me the entire week I stayed with them. Bethany even came up with an ingenious invention to keep my wings pinned down in order to hide them from society: a simple harness made out of belts for pants.

It was easy for her to teach me how to make it.

Even after discovering I was a freak of nature, my friends still accepted me: even with my wings, they couldn't see me as anything but their beautiful little sister. We were the Four Flowers of Northern Alaska: Jessica's nickname was Rose, because she had auburn hair and lime green eyes; Bethany's nickname was Violet because her hair was black and she had a pretty big thing for the color purple; Angela's nickname was Daisy, because she had long blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a _ridiculous_ fascination for Daisy Duke shorts; and my nickname was Frosty... as in 'Frosty' Primrose, because my skin is white, my hair is white, and even my eyelashes are white.

The only thing about me that _isn't_ white are my eyes, which isn't exactly a great comfort.

You see, I was graced with colorless irises that catch every light like a mirror: they look almost creepy as a result.

That little piece of my history is why there will always be a part of me that fears being discovered.

If you don't understand why I would be scared of what might happen, try to imagine yourself in my shoes for a second. Can you picture an abnormally small, odd-looking misfit of a girl who just wants to be normal? Can you picture yourself having wings and feeling the terror of not knowing what might happen to you if someone ever found out that you were an abomination who shouldn't even _exist_?

If you can picture that, you'll have a clean-cut image on what my life is like: a living nightmare.

I once had dreams of going to college someday. Dreams of having a happy, successful future where people would admire me. That's never going to happen, because I can't fully be myself when I'm not even part of your world. Even though I walk with you under the light of the sun, my heart hides under the moon and stars... in the shadows, where nobody can see it. I can't have a normal life because Man destroys what he fears, and what he fears is generally what he doesn't understand.

Can you understand how _trapped_ that makes me feel…?

I am a slave to my own existence, and all I'm really doing is pretending in order to survive. I'm pretending to be a regular high school girl who goes to a regular private academy when, in reality, there is nothing regular about me. If I had a choice, I'd rather live in my dreams than this hellhole humans call reality: life isn't fun and games for me... it's hard, cold, and uncaring. If you laugh at any time when you read this diary, you're an idiot: my mind isn't normally like some book you can just open up and read whenever you want.

I've learned not to trust anybody but myself, but I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt because you seem okay.

So, tell me the truth already... do you think you can keep a secret like mine?

Because I really have to get to school, and getting ready isn't exactly easy when you have hair that hangs below your butt.


	2. Chapter 1: Fight With Fate

**Chapter One: A Fight with Fate**

The fight started at the Taco Bell where a lot of the seniors and a few juniors hang out for lunch during the school days.

I guess you could say that I was fitting in at school about as well as I fit in everywhere else—which _isn't_ very well at all, just in case you were wondering. Being a weird-looking freak can do that to you. Anyway, I was transferred into a school that has kids who've been classmates since they were pretty much in diapers, which means that I'm not just _a_ new girl; I'm _the_ new girl. Worse yet, I'm _the_ new girl who was seen sitting in the car of the most popular boy in school, Samuel Wales, on Sunday afternoon.

Making that decision had been really stupid of me, I'll admit that flat out: I shouldn't have accepted his offer to drive me home that day, but it had been raining buckets and I was soaked to the bone because I didn't exactly own an umbrella. However, I hadn't known that Sam was Christopher's little brother, and I _definitely_ hadn't known that Chris would take my actions the wrong way.

Because he did, in fact, take it in a _very_ wrong way.

You see, when Sam had driven me about halfway home, he'd made a stop at the local supermarket and pretty much demanded that the cashier take a picture of us: she'd had a self-developing camera that printed high-quality images in school-portrait sizes, and he'd refused to leave the store until a picture of us was taken together. I hadn't really wanted to get a picture taken, especially since I was completely soaked, but he'd grinned so widely once the photo was developed that I hadn't complained. Samuel was a pretty goofy guy, but he was also extremely good-looking: his carrot-red hair was messy, but stylish... and he looked sort of like a male model in my own opinion.

Even now, I don't understand why he'd tucked that picture into his pocket.

I wasn't exactly a special catch, even if you subtracted my odd appearance.

On the other hand, his older brother Christopher—the witty jock and part-time comedian—was the boy who'd left half of my English Literature class pissing themselves from laughing at me. I hadn't done anything funny, really... I'd simply been forced to speak my mind in class—for the first time ever—by singing a lyrical poem that I'd written in under five minutes as a class assignment.

I hadn't expected my teacher to be so cruel: she'd threatened to give me detention if I didn't sing it out loud.

Christopher had latched onto the flaws in my work and used it to get a rise out of people. Still, don't get me wrong: Christopher is a really funny guy, and it's true that he has a real talent in making people laugh. You really can tell the difference between true comedian and a fake one: in the case of a true comedian, you can still feel the little knives he stuck into you weeks afterwards. In my case, he was simply peeved because I had politely turned down his offer to go out on a movie-date the day before.

I _will_ admit that I was kind of surprised when he'd asked me, though... I'm not popular, and I'm not even pretty compared to the rest of the female population.

Honestly, a lot of guys are scared of me.

Like I said before, I have white hair and intense pink eyes... and both traits tend to rub people the wrong way because of how vibrant they are. Plus, I'm also an apathetic kind of girl, which is pretty much an attraction-killer: the combination of my looks and my attitude don't really go well together, so I'm always alone. I feel like I live my life behind a veil—sort of like I can see other people, but they can't really see me. I feel like they can only see a shadow of the girl I truly am inside... but hey, that's my personality.

I'm happy not being figured out: I like being alone... especially considering the issues with my back.

However, for some strange reason, Samuel was the first person in years who really saw me.

We'd been talking now and then back and forth between classes since I usually hung out in the library... in the beginning, I'd ignored him whenever he'd tried to start a conversation. I'd hurried off on my own, read my books and tuned him out, and basically just given him the cold shoulder... but then, I'd eventually started giving snarky replies, which had turned into small conversations, which had thus led to my screw up on Sunday.

I didn't regret it... after all, it was easy for me to tell that Samuel saw me a person and _not_ a trophy to hang on his arm.

The most shocking part, however… was the fact that I'd come to really _like_ it.

I walked three blocks to the Taco Bell, just like I did everywhere: I was pretty much the only girl in Chicago who didn't own a car, but hey—when you had a pair of feathered wings that were three times bigger than your body, who needed wheels? My long white hair was hanging loose like always, left to freely twist in the lightest of breezes. I rarely ever mess with my hair aside from brushing it since I don't like putting out an image that really isn't mine: sometimes I'll tie it back into a ponytail or a braid, but I only do it for convenience when unavoidable situations have presented themselves to me.

On top of that, most girls at my school have their black uniform skirts cropped so high that you can see their underwear without even trying to look, but I prefer the old-fashioned knee-length skirts since I'm not exactly what you would define as a '_mega-slut.' _I've never even had my first kiss, if you want the truth: I'd die of a nosebleed before that ever came _close_ to happening.

I wasn't really planning on eating anything for lunch; I just wanted to find a nice place to read during my new school's recess hour, and seeing how I was already lost in the pages of the book I'd checked out from the library that morning, I really didn't feel all that hungry. However, most likely because of my unusual hair color, it didn't take long for Chris to spot me heading for the Taco Bell.

When I was younger, I used to assume that class clowns were nothing but windbags who had nothing legitimate to back up their boasts—and maybe Christopher was like that, but he had a lot of friends. So, when the door of the Taco Bell flew open and he stomped outside—bristling and scowling—he had three other guys helping him hold up the bad-ass act. The moment I glanced up from my book and saw him coming towards me, I stopped walking and raised my eyebrows a bit in surprise as I waited for him. He came right up to me and glared with burning eyes: I didn't know if he would have confronted me without his crew, but he looked angry enough to try it. Although, he didn't really have a reason to be angry with me in the first place... so, why was he so mad?

Oh, right: Samuel.

"We have a problem, slut!" Christopher snapped at me. "I want to get some answers, right now!"

"Excuse me?" I demanded in a monotone, furrowing my brows. "First of all... I'm not a slut; second of all, you need to go take some anger management lessons because I didn't do anything to deserve that insult; and third of all, if you _do_ have a problem with me, you're shit out of luck: if you think I'm going to talk to you after being randomly insulted, you're wrong... so, I'd appreciate it if you'd move out of the way. I'd like to go inside and read my book in peace, but I can't do that until you stop blocking the sidewalk."

Unfortunately, I didn't see the fist coming at me until it had already connected with my face: it hadn't been from Christopher, it had been from one of his friends. The boy had literally drawn back his fist and nailed me with a mean left hook, and it had smacked me right in the cheek. I staggered backwards with a muffled squeak and went down on the pavement, book flying out of my hands; I scraped my palms on the concrete trying to lessen the pain of the fall, but I was honestly more stunned than anything else.

Just as I drew my knees up and attempted to get back on me feet, the jerk's knee came up and caught me in the forehead. It was a hand grenade had exploded right in front of my face: I could have sworn that my eyes went dark for a moment, mostly because of the blinding black lights that flashed in front of them. The boy grabbed my long hair and started hitting me repeatedly in the face when I collapsed on my side, but a few seconds later I heard shouting and I was surprised to discover that most of it was Chris.

He was dragging the guy off of me with the help of two girls who looked positively outraged.

"You asshole!" Christopher roared, shoving the boy and pinning him against the wall. "I never said you could hit her! You don't hit girls, man—it's against the fucking law! Get out of here or I'll kick _your_ ass for beating on Serenity like that!"

I struggled when I felt several people dragging me by my arms to the back of the Taco Bell.

"Leave me alone!" I squeaked, fighting and trying to stand up on my own. "Let me go!"

I managed to get on my feet and remained upright for about three seconds before I stumbled and slammed into the wooden fence; when I slid to the ground again, Christopher Wales hauled me back up and held me steady. A few minutes later it started to rain, and it almost felt like a blessing since it helped me deal with my dizziness. Standing next to me and Christopher were two girls from my homeroom class: an overly cheerful white girl named April Baker, and an extremely quiet black girl named Charity Mitchell.

I remembered April from the first day in my new school simply because she was the epitome of a bubblegum-pink emo punk: she had large teal eyes, dyed pink hair that stretched down below her shoulders in spiky tendrils, and she was absolutely _full_ of big mocking smiles: she was like the complete opposite of a Goth girl, but somehow she had managed to pull off a cuter version of the look.

Be with me for a million years and you won't figure me out; be with April for ten minutes and it's like you two grew up together.

Charity, on the other hand, was different: she and I connected the moment I sat next to her on my first day.

Ever since I transferred to my new school, she's been trying to make me smile with a playful amount of sarcasm, and she's the one who gave me confidence after I'd stormed out of the classroom due to Christopher's comedy skit concerning my work. She'd told me that my voice had outclassed an opera singer's, but admitted that the lyrics had sucked. Charity doesn't believe the truth should piss anyone off, or maybe she doesn't care if it does: she simply cares that it's true—and that's giving her the benefit of the doubt.

Take away that particular grace and maybe she's just a know-it-all.

However, she _is_ one of the first girls I've ever really tried to get to know aside from my friends back in Alaska, so you need to realize that she's a very special person to me. We weren't really friends yet; at the moment, we were like two off-center people who've been shunted away from society because our differences were much too extreme for the normal crowd. I guess we hit it off so well because we recognized a bit of ourselves in each other: I was a white girl who had abnormal hair and eye pigmentation, and she was the only black girl at our preppy private school. She'd stepped in and saved me when I was getting hassled by some black boys with nasty attitudes in town, so I did the same for her when she was getting some grief from some snobbish white boys at school. She had been very happy about that, I should add.

Charity has this habit of not turning her head when she looks at someone.

All she really moves is her eyes, and she always regards other people with this skeptical, appraising look. She gave me the impression of not being fazed by much, but I knew for a fact that she would be shocked to the core if she knew what I really was. After all, the existence of an angel would shock anyone. It takes her a while to talk and everyone thinks she's slow—but once I got to know her better, I understood that she's only slow to talk because she's abnormally intelligent compared to other people.

Her brain literally jumps three spaces ahead of everyone else's at four times the speed of an ADHD fanatic, so she actually has to back up in order to deal with them. Really, I think that's another reason why we get along so well: I can keep up with her hyperactive train of thought. When I was a little girl, I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder: I was always running around, looking at all the wrong things, missing what I was supposed to get, and getting things that nobody cared about.

To sum it up easily, here's my entire childhood: "Frosty, settle down!"

By the time I was eleven years old, I was a confirmed skateboard freak. I had those baggy Chic pants that all of the Goth girls loved so much, I had a collection of emo beanie hats, and my skateboard was pretty much surgically attached to my hip. I couldn't be without it because whenever I would skate… well, ironically, I felt like I was flying. I'd needed an outlet to vent the pain of living with my new step-father, and skateboarding had called out to me in a way that nothing else really could.

To sum it up easily, here's my entire Junior High existence: "Hey, kid, get offa there!"

Now, here I am: a fifteen year old High School girl who already has multiple requests from the best colleges in the country, asking her to join them as though she were some sort of special recruit who could be of use to their alien colony. A small misfit of an albino who isn't even a human like she'd believed for most of her life. An apathetic teenage girl who doesn't know what she is. Oh, wait... pardon my mistake: she's a freak who was beaten up by a loser because she refused to go out on a date with his buddy.

Yay for assholes.

I really wanted to hit someone by that point, but everyone was staring at me and I couldn't make out who was who.

"What are you all staring at?" I demanded, dizzily trying to glare at everyone through my dishevled silver bangs.

"I can't speak for the others," Christopher said slowly, eying my appearance, "but personally, I'm looking at a girl who just got sucker-punched in the face and needs to go to a hospital. I mean, damn... what did he cut your head with? Did he pull a knife?"

I touched my head and looked at my fingers; they came away covered in blood.

"You're friends with a guy who hits on girls?" I demanded, weakly pushing off of him so I could lean against the fence. "You know, I'm actually _glad_ that I decided not to go out with you now... so, thanks for proving my hunch to be one-hundred percent correct."

"Hey, don't lay that on me." Christopher snapped, fervently shaking his head. "What you and I have going on, Serenity, you and I can deal with it: don't even try to act like this is my fault! That wasn't my idea, what happened back there!"

"So what?" I heatedly exclaimed, burning holes into his face with my smoldering pink eyes. "He was with you, Christopher Wales, and I'm pretty damn sure that _you_ were the one who wanted to confront me since I didn't want to go on a date with you! Am I correct?!"

"What the hell is the matter with you two?" April scoffed, ruffling her hair. "Let me guess, this has to do with Samuel, doesn't it?"

I glared up at Christopher; he glared down at me. Some of my blood was on his shirt because he'd helped me to stand up.

"We should get going," Charity said softly, looking around with hesitant chocolate brown eyes. "Someone may have called the cops because of what happened out front, and I don't wanna be here if they show up. It wouldn't be a good idea in this neighborhood."

"I didn't do anything wrong," Christopher snorted sarcastically.

"I don't care about you, though," Charity quietly retorted, staring at him as though he were a moron. "I'm black, you idiot: if the cops show up and see Frosty in this condition, they'll bust me on general principle because of how bad this part of town is. So, come on: let's take this show somewhere else before I end up playing Rodney King's wife over your friend's stupid actions."

That's how we all came together for the first time: me wobbling along and clutching my bleeding head with shaking hands; Chris propping me up and showing no sign of guilt as he made jokes at my expense; April thinking that the whole situation was amusing, touching, and very idiotic; and Charity looking out for herself even as she looked out for me.

That's where it all began: centered around a boy named Samuel who wasn't even there.


	3. Chapter 2: Reluctant Crush

**Chapter Two: A Reluctant Crush  
**

"Oh, my God! Serenity, what the hell happened to you?!" Samuel exclaimed, eyes wide as he pulled over along the side of the road and jumped out of his convertible; he immediately tried to catch up with my steady power walk. "You look absolutely _terrible!"_

"Thanks! So do you," I retorted sourly, shooting him a scowl over my shoulder as I continued the long walk toward my house. I'd spent almost seven hours in the ER getting stitches for my head, and now I needed to walk twenty-six miles from there to my house because my mother had refused to come pick me up. She was having a 'good time' with my step-father, or so she'd said.

"Seriously, what happened?" Samuel demanded, struggling to match my pace. "Did someone pull a knife on you?"

"No," I stated a little less irritably, halting for a moment in order to look at him over my shoulder. "I got into a fight with your older brother, Christopher Wales... well, it was more along the lines that_ he_ got his _friend_ to get into a fight with me. You get the idea."

_"Chris_ did this to you?" Samuel scoffed, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "You fought one of Chris's friends?!"

"Don't ask," I sighed, shaking my head in dismay. "Anyway, I need to get home. Preferably before tomorrow. I'll see you around."

"You're walking all the way there?!" Samuel cried in horror. "Forget it! I'm driving you home: it's too dangerous out here for girls like you."

"No thanks, but I appreciate the offer," I called with a disinterested wave. "One ride caused enough problems for a lifetime."

"It wasn't an offer, it was an order!" Samuel shouted, making me halt in my tracks.

"Excuse me?" I inquired dangerously, turning around and cocking an eyebrow at him. "Could you please repeat that? I just want to be sure that I _won't_ have to kick your ass for ordering me around, because last time I checked, I don't take orders from _anyone... especially _cocky teenage boys that I don't know very well. Now is the chance to rethink your answer: I haven't got all night."

"You heard me, Frosty: it was an order!" Samuel repeated, giving me a slightly pleading look. "I wasn't kidding when I said that it's dangerous for girls around here, and it sure as hell wasn't a pick-up line. I'm not _that_ cheesy! Don't you watch the news? Nineteen local girls have gone missing from this particular area, but two _bodies_ have been found! I won't have you going missing, too!"

I stared at him, feeling a little taken aback: it was true that I didn't watch television all that much, but were there really that many disappearances in this area? I guess he was being sincere because he looked very solemn and serious. I thought about it for a long moment, but in the end I decided to let him drive me home. I mean, really—what could happen?

"Okay, fine," I sighed quietly, sliding into the passenger's side of his car, "but keep your hands to yourself."

"Your wish is my command, my lady," he replied with a wink, slipping in after me. "Allow me to escort you home safely!"

Then we were off: the top of his convertible was down, so the wind instantly began whipping at my thigh-length hair and tossed it around like shimmering satin. When we stopped at a light, he looked at my face for a moment before reaching out with gentle fingers and touching my stitched-up head. His amber eyes were dark and glittering in the neon lights coming from outside.

"You're touching me, Sam," I stated evenly, glancing at him with a frown. "Remember our deal?"

"Yeah, but this is a really bad cut," he stated absently, moving his fingers over the stitches. He looked at my battered face for a long moment, and his expression was… well, I don't really know what it was, but it made me feel so uneasy that I had to look away from him. I guess he spaced for a second because he pressed too hard and pain seared through the side of my head.

"Ouch!" I squeaked, instantly jerking my face away. "That hurt!"

"Sorry," he apologized, abruptly pulling his hand back: there was blood on his fingertips, but he didn't wipe it away even after he noticed it there—which disturbed me more than just a little bit. "I didn't mean to do that... I wasn't paying attention."

"It's all right," I sighed, looking straight ahead at the red light. "Just don't do it again, okay?"

"You were fighting over me, weren't you?" he asked quietly.

"Let's just say," I grumbled irritably, "that I happily decided to grab his friend's knee and used it to beat the hell out of my face."

"Christopher wouldn't have ever hit you, Frosty," Samuel sighed, looking at me with gentle eyes. "He's not like that with girls."

"I don't believe it," I retorted, pulling a ribbon out of my pocket and tying my hair into a ponytail. "Not for a second."

"Trust me, Frosty," Sam countered firmly, smiling a little. "He's my big brother, so I know about stuff like that."

I shot a look at him and saw that he was looking at me... not through me. His amber eyes were running over my face, lingering on the features that made me who I was. My delicate chin and small nose, like he was judging them; my white hair, which shimmered like silver water in the breeze; my amethyst eyes that somehow managed to look at him without actually making eye-contact...

Then he kissed me, and my eyes went wide in shock as my heart froze: he had literally just stolen my first kiss.

When the light turned green again, he pulled away and took off a little faster than before.

I shivered and my face turned tomato red when he drove to a place where we could watch the moon come up over Lake Michigan. I looked at him after he parked the car and realized that I knew absolutely nothing about him: a boy that I didn't even know had stolen my first kiss, and the most shocking part was the fact that it… well, somehow it had felt right. It was strange, and more than a little disturbing for me to think about, because it made me feel fluttery in a weird… yet pleasant sort of way.

"Sorry that the radio sucks," he apologized, looking a little awkward. "This car is really old."

"It's okay, Sam," I replied softly, looking out at the full moon. "I like it better when everything is quiet. I always have."

We sat there, side by side in silence as we listened to the breeze and mellow lapping of water at the shore. A sudden chill tingled its way from my tailbone and up to my neck, sending me a premature warning of some new future horror that hadn't happened yet flashing into my awareness. I instantly knew something terrible was going to happen to the boy who was now sitting next to me.

"Something's going to happen to you," I whispered, gazing out at the water with frightened pink eyes.

"What do you mean?" Samuel asked, looking at me with raised eyebrows. "What's going to happen?"

"I don't know," I whispered, shaking my head slowly. "I only know that something terrible is going to happen soon."

"What are you—" Samuel tried to say.

"Sometimes I know things before they happen," I interrupted, looking at the water with a hollow feeling in my throat. "Sometimes I can even see images in my head, like I'm watching a movie directly behind my eyes… but then, what I see will really happen. After it does... I always wonder if I made it happen by seeing it, or if I saw it simply because it was going to happen anyway."

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eyes in time to see him shrugging in confusion: he never took his eyes off me.

"I don't know... maybe it's a little bit of both?" Sam suggested, not really knowing how to react. "Who knows for sure?"

"Right," I quietly agreed, looking back up at the moon with a small sigh. "Who knows?"

"Serenity, if something really does happen to me… no, _when_ it happens... will you save me?" Samuel asked, shivering a little despite the fact that he smiled at me in a cocky sort of way. "Promise me that you'll be there when it does happen… okay?"

"I promise," I stated solemnly, looking up at him with soft pink eyes. "I'm weird, and I know I sound crazy... but I'm also _right."_

"I don't think you sound crazy," Samuel murmured, looking at me with softer eyes. "I don't know how to explain it... but when I saw you for the very first time at our school, I thought you were an angel. I was sitting outside in the courtyard munching on a granola bar when you walked through the school gates: the sunlight was reflecting off of your hair so beautifully. I... love you."

"Why?" I demanded, instantly becoming wary of him. "You don't know anything about me, Samuel."

"I know that I fell in love the moment I saw you, and that's all the reason I need to get to know you," the redhead cheekily replied, smiling in a giddy manner. Oddly enough, I believed him when he confessed his feelings: there was just something about the way he was looking at me that made his words ring true with sincere and honest emotion. "You're a frozen beauty, Serena."

Serena.

It was the first time anyone had ever called me that.

I don't know if that's what did it, but there was something about him in that moment that ensnared me. His presence made my heart skip a beat and my normally pale cheeks flushed bright red: it was the first time I had ever blushed in my life, and the sensation made my ears burn as though they'd just been smacked by a diva on a rampage. I wasn't exactly sure how to react to the nickname he'd given me, but when he leaned in and kissed me again... I tentatively returned it with a gentle one of my own.

Then I closed my eyes and swallowed as my face heated up with an embarrassed blush: it lasted for what felt like an eternity. The world had stopped for a few blissful moments, and I was feeling something that I was extremely unfamiliar with. Even after Samuel had driven me home and I was lying in bed, I struggled for several hours and tried to figure out what I was feeling.

When I finally realized the answer, I wanted to cry because I had broken my own rule.

Which was bad… very, very bad: you see, I was falling in love with Samuel Wales.

It was probably because of my ingrained fear of getting close to others that I had a nightmare about him that night. It had to have been, because there was no other way to rationalize why I would suddenly have a terrifying dream about such a sweet and honest boy. For some reason, I almost always remember my dreams—even though most of the time I pretend not to. There are some things that I dream about that aren't all dreams. Some of my nightmares are memories from a long time ago that I don't want to remember—stuff from when I was a little girl that rose up from my subconscious every now and then to torture me.

However, I dreamed of Samuel that night—and in the dream I wanted to run away from him.

He came to me, right there in my room.

He just appeared, and even before I opened my eyes I knew he was sitting on my desk.

When I looked at him, he wasn't smiling; he looked distant, distracted, and wary of me. Still, he came to stand beside my bed and took my hand in his own. The moment he touched me, however, I felt a jolt of electricity surge through my body and into my back, where my wings were resting in their makeshift harness. His hand was freezing cold—but not death cold… more like steel cold. Emptiness cold. My hand, though it was warm, could not affect him: my body heat couldn't raise his temperature, and that fact—that physical fact—made it seem like my skin was on fire. There were other eyes looking down at me through his.

And he frightened me.

I felt that he could reach down, take my throat in his hand, and choke me to death if he wanted to—and I would be helpless to stop him. I felt that trying to stop him would be futile, that I'd be batting at him with my skinny, weak arms, and would still be unable to bruise the liquid steel of his body. He waved his other hand, and all at once the walls of my room were gone. We were outside in the moonlight, but now I was standing upright and completely nude in a field full of wildflowers. I covered myself immediately with a startled squeak and folded my wings around my body to protect my privacy. Even though I knew it was all fake, it still made my insides churn to think about anyone seeing me completely naked.

I looked up at him after I was sure my wings completely covered the parts of my body that I wanted hidden.

I immediately knew that all of this was an illusion he had created—a movie backdrop for the big scene. He waved his hand again and suddenly I was wearing my school uniform, wings strapped under their harness. He bent low then, and pressed his lips to mine. I tried to flinch away, but my arms and legs had turned to marble. He stretched out his hand and tried to touch my face, but I snapped at him with my teeth since my limbs weren't working.

"No control, Serenity. You have no control over what I'm going to do to you," he laughed wickedly. "Dear Frosty… Frosty the Celestial Guardian… Frosty the General… Frosty the Fool… Frosty the Savior… Frosty the Dragon Lover..."

He continued to reel off more names as I stood there, shaking with fear and anxiety—giving me more mocking titles. However, as he went on the names became more bitter and angry—almost as though he were seeing a list reeled off behind his eyes, a list he began to like less and less. Then his eyes saw something that made his mouth form into a snarl.

"Plans within plans… secrets within secrets," he said thoughtfully, stroking my cheek with his fingers before putting his arms around me in a sensual way that made me feel sick inside. "But you will never betray me. Will you, my angel?"

"Leave me alone!" I cried, feeling as though someone were ripping the words from my throat. I felt terrified when my body went slack and began moving of its own accord—moving my arms around his back to return his embrace. "No! No! Stop it! Stay away from me, Samuel!"

"I'm afraid I can't, Serenity," he chuckled nastily. "You will always be my pet. You belong to me."

I closed my eyes and whimpered when he kissed me again and tried to press his body against mine. His body's warmth had returned, but my heart had been chilled with fear and distrust of him. The moment I realized this, however, he disappeared and I woke up in my bed—crying hysterically.


	4. Chapter 3: Destiny

**Chapter Three: Destiny  
**

The terrible thing I'd felt was going to happen occurred the very next day.

But sadly... it didn't happen to Samuel.

It happened to me.

It was an early, gray dawn, and the clouds were hanging low over the lake. It was chilly, which is usually how I like it when I go flying. Probably sounds a little weird, but hey—when you sprout a pair of wings like I did, you'll find your own likes and dislikes in personal flight when you find some time to use them. I fly maybe three to four times a week, but I have to stay in the cloud bank so nobody spots me and goes nuts. I had a bad experience with an elderly couple who thought that they'd died and I was coming to take them to heaven. They made me out as the delivery woman of the stars: bringing souls up to heaven like the people who bring you pizza. Tch, yeah right—if I'm supposed to bring dead people to heaven, I'd like a tip or something for the effort.

Seriously, though, the reason why I fly so often is because I'm full of energy... and I'm always holding it back. I don't know how else to explain it, but the hyper sensation makes my body freeze: not 'freeze' as in 'stop moving', but 'freeze' as in 'radiate ice that glues me to my sheets like fast-dry adhesive'. To keep the energy from being let loose from my body on its own, I have to move around and get my pent-up energy out. That morning, however, I woke up tingling with so much power that my entire room was dead cold: I could see my breath, and there was frost on the inside of the windows.

I got up with the decision already made to fly.

I unpeeled myself from my frozen sheets and rolled out of bed before pulling on pair of jean shorts, a faded black halter-top, and my school backpack. Then I dug through my dresser and pulled out two sets of school uniforms, folding up the black skirt and blazer before tucking two pairs of stockings into my big old backpack. I usually brought two uniforms with me anyway, since a vast majority of the girls at my school were actually pretty mean. I was always 'accident' prone around them, especially during lunch.

Lastly, I fished a black hair ribbon out of my closet and pulled my bangs behind my head, expertly tying my hair in place with it; when I was done tying the ribbon into a neat-looking bow, I pulled on my brown hiking boots and laced them on with deft fingers. I was ready to go, so I crept down the stairs past my mother's room. Her door was partly open, but when I looked in I saw Jim's leg sticking out from underneath the crumpled sheets.

I immediately snapped my eyes away with an angry grimace and headed out the door.

I detested Jim's existence, as I've probably mentioned several times before.

We have a house in an extremely old neighborhood. It's a nice house with a standard big-city lawn and a tall wooden fence around the back yard. The street is usually quiet, and it's only eight or nine blocks downhill to the lake. I headed to the backyard and took off the makeshift harness that I'd created from three leather belts, putting it in my backpack before I fanned out my wings. The shimmering appendages stretched twelve feet from tip to tip, and I have to admit that I was slightly proud of myself for having something so beautiful become a part of me. My wings were beautiful: there was no other way to put it.

I spread my arms as a wonderful sense of anticipation overwhelmed me, tilting back my head as I used the extra muscles in my upper back to beat my wings against the air. I bent forward a moment later and began to run, trying to take off like a bird and get into the air. After a few moments my feet left the ground and I was flying, but I knew from experience that I had to keep flapping until I could hit a thermal, which was an extremely warm air current that generally rose from the ground and towards the sky.

You see, flying on strength alone is exhausting; if you want an analogy, try sprinting two miles without taking a break.

The feeling you'll get from doing that will explain how flapping nonstop to stay airborne feels.

I zoomed over my house and headed toward the lake, spreading my arms like an eagle as an inexplicable laugh escaped my lips.

Flying always made me feel this odd sort of joy, this sense of giddy exhilaration that made me feel alive during the periods where I felt half asleep and acted distant from the world. I flew above the still-sleeping downtown Chicago past the Meyer's and the library, then past the health food store and the Barnes and Nobles where I hung out to read now and then. I listened to the sound of the wind rushing past my ears and felt it whipping my long hair around as a deliriously happy grin flashed across my face.

I actually laughed as I flew down to Sheridan Street, which was still mostly devoid of traffic.

From the sky, I could see that there was a park all along the lake that was full of grass, big trees, and winding paths for runners and bikers. My mother had told me that people take there dogs there and kids play in the water during the summer, but at this hour of the morning there were just a few early-morning joggers spaced far apart on the crushed shell path. I made sure to stay out of sight until I passed them; then my eyes drifted toward the L-shaped pier of concrete blocks. I knew that it sheltered the powerboat launching ramp, but I frowned when I saw someone sitting out on the end of it. Whoever it was seemed to be resting past the safety railing, perched on a rough, white concrete boulder.

My heart suddenly skipped a beat and I knew it was him.

Samuel was gazing out at the mist-shrouded lake with his hands folded in his lap.

From this height he looked small and weak—not the creature from my dream. My wing-beats faltered and I glided down toward a stand of tall trees, planning to land and put my wing-harness on so I could talk to him about my nightmare. Once my feet touched the ground, I hastily dug around in my backpack and grabbed my harness. After that, I carefully folded my wings at the joints, tucking them against my upper torso like a hiking pack before slipping on the makeshift restraint. Then I slinked behind a tree and slipped on a baggy sweatshirt to cover my halter top: once my backpack was on my shoulders, I began walking toward Samuel.

I should have felt lucky to be able talk to him alone, but I didn't.

My steady steps faltered and then sped up again repeatedly as my heart fluttered sickeningly.

What I felt was dread... and the closer I came, the stronger it grew.

"What's the matter with me?" I quietly asked myself. "Why am I so jumpy? That knee to the head must have rattled my brain."

I headed toward Samuel, toward the start of the pier, but my feet were listening to the feeling inside my gut.

My steps were out of rhythm: they missed steps, they dragged, and they didn't want to go any closer.

That's when I saw the others—and when they saw me, I swear that a chill of energy radiated in a circle from my body and froze the mist hovering in the air completely solid. Charity was just pulling up in her car, but I could clearly see that she was wearing her black school blazer with a bright blue tie: she looked neat and proper like always. I knew that she saw me, too, but I guess we were both trying to look normal—even though both of us knew there was nothing normal going on around here. It was strange.

Christopher was walking towards us from the other direction—in the male version of our school uniform—looking worried and harassed by something known only to him. Really, he sort of looked like a guy who was late for an appointment that he didn't really want to make. April was sitting on a bench only a dozen steps away from me, wearing nothing but her white button-up undershirt, a bright pink tie, and her black school skirt as she gazed out at Samuel. I slowly walked over to her and sat down with a sigh.

I was the only one who wasn't wearing a school uniform, but oh well: I hated the outfit anyway.

"Hi, April," I greeted quietly, following her gaze as the breeze played with strands of my long silver hair. "Um... not to sound weird or anything, but I'm feeling... extremely disturbed for reasons that I can't exactly place. Can you feel it, too?"

"What does it mean, Frosty?" April asked, abruptly turning her startling teal eyes on me. "What's going on here?"

"I don't really know, but I don't like it at all," I calmly replied, slowly shaking my head; I heard a car door close and Charity silently joined the two of us: she looked at both of us without moving anything but her pretty brown eyes. Her face became uneasy as she glanced between April and myself, but then, as if she didn't want to turn her head, she slowly looked at Samuel's back.

"Excuse me, but do any of you ladies have a serious case of the unholy creeps?" Christopher called, walking up behind me and putting a huge hand on my shoulder. I have to admit that he was a big guy—bigger, at least, than most of the people in our particular age group. He had jet black hair and—unlike his brother—he was extremely tan: I personally thought he looked more like a Mexican gangbanger than a movie-star-quality gingersnap like Samuel Wales, but that was just my own opinion about him.

"I was blaming it on brain damage," I murmured sarcastically, pointing to my temple before shrugging his hand off.

"I don't know about you, Frosty, but my brain's completely fine right now," Charity said uneasily, straightening her hair-scarf before pocketing her pink rimmed half-moon glasses. "I know I'm a crazy black bitch, but this is the first time that my stomach has ever told me to get the hell away from someplace that looks so pretty. Trust me, that ain't normal for a girl like me."

"Too weird…" April murmured, rubbing her neck. "We're here, he's there, and we're all creeped out for some reason. What _is_ this?"

"I heard him leave really early this morning," Christopher said with a shrug, glancing at the three of us in dismay. "We share a wall between our rooms, so I felt like I had to follow him... I mean, he's my little brother and I worry about him, so what can I say?"

"What _is_ this?" April repeated, speaking in a loud voice. "I'm feeling freaked out, so can someone tell me what's going on?"

"Why don't you ask _him,"_ I suggested, pointing at Samuel as I shook my head: the redhead slowly climbed to his feet and turned around with a sigh, but then he froze and looked at the four of us in surprise. He was maybe a hundred feet away, but I could still see the blatant confusion on his face as he cocked his head to the side. I saw him shrug after a moment, and he began to walk toward us with a smile and a cheerful wave. I felt myself returning the smile, but way more gently... I even blushed a little bit.

"Morning, everybody!" Sam called, skipping up to us with a huge grin. "Did you all come here so we could head to school together?"

"Uh, what?" Christopher asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Dude, why are you here so early?"

"Oh, well..." Sam muttered, face falling before he rubbed his stomach, "I had this creepy feeling in my gut when I woke up, and I wanted to take a walk to get rid of it... it sort of... led me here, although, I don't really know why."

I felt a jolt go through me and leaned to the side, giving the water an unnerved expression.

I had a bad feeling about the water for some reason or another.

"Since we're all here, why don't we head to school early?" I stoically suggested, swallowing as I continued eying the lake. "I think we should get out of here."

"Sounds like a smart plan to me," Charity sighed, pushing her glasses up her nose. "I'm getting the creeps."

"You're not the only one," April laughed, more nervously than anything else. "Anyway, what's gonna be on the test tomorrow? Anybody know?"

I halted for a bit and turned to glance at the endless waters of Lake Michigan with worried eyes, feeling a bit unnerved.

For some reason, I had a really, really bad feeling about it... which was odd.

Then I turned and followed the others with a shiver.

When we got to school, we all went our separate ways since we'd arrived about ten minutes too early... but on his way down the hall, I noticed with a start that Sam had dropped several of his papers by accident without noticing. I hastily hurried over and picked them up before following his path with a somewhat shy expression. I didn't exactly know where he was heading off to, but I figured he'd be happy I'd returned his papers.

I was just about to pass the boy's bathroom when I heard a gale of laughter emanating out of it from several boys.

"No way!" a male voice exclaimed, sounding thoroughly amazed. "Are you serious?!"

"Of course I am!" Samuel chuckled, making my heart flutter in relief; I instantly leaned against the lockers outside the bathroom, determined to wait and hand him his school papers. "Why wouldn't I be serious? It wasn't even all that hard, you know... it was almost too easy!"

"I really didn't think she'd fall for it," another male voice sneered, making me frown in confusion; I slowly tilted my head and listened harder. "The new girl's so antisocial and creepy-looking that I never would have thought you'd be able to do it so quickly... if at all."

"I know, right?" Sam snickered, sounding thoroughly dismayed; I felt my heart freeze almost instantly. "I swear, that bitch is creepier than anyone I've ever met in my whole life! She even tried acting like a new age weirdo and said that something was going to happen to me... for real."

"No way!" a third male voice exclaimed, sounding thoroughly delighted; more laughter ensued. "Did she really?"

"Yeah," Sam chuckled, voice coming out in a condescending tone. "It was kind of pathetic, but honestly... with her freakish looks and odd personality, I wouldn't rule out the possibility of her having abnormal abilities like that. She IS an albino, after all... and don't albinos have a genetic mutation or something?"

"Yeah, so I guess she's a mutant as well as a freak," the first male voice snickered. "Damn, Samuel, you won this one with flying colors... I'll bring you the twenty tomorrow afternoon, okay? Just be sure to break it off before it can start. You don't want the weirdo to start clinging."

"I plan to do it after school today," Samuel sneered. "She's surprisingly naive for someone who acts so cold."

I was frozen.

I felt two tears trickling down my cheeks when I turned around, so I frantically wiped my eyes.

I had never felt so horrible than I did in that moment... not even once in my entire life. The realization that his actions had all been a lie... that he had stolen something so precious for a bet... it made me feel as though my heart were being ripped out. It came as such a huge shock to me that I suddenly felt detached, almost as though this were a nightmare that I was unable to awaken from.

Then Samuel walked out of the bathroom and spotted me.

His face instantly went white.

"Why?" I managed to croak, struggling to speak past the lump in my throat. "Why? Samuel, you…?"

"Serenity, i-it's not what you think!" the redhead stammered, waving his arms with a nervous grin until he noticed the expression on my face. "Jesus... I'm so sorry... Serena, I _swear_ to_ God_ that I didn't mean any of that! I... I'm so sorry..."

"Sam..." I croaked, trying to speak more than that. "Sam..."

However, more words failed me and I hung my head with an odd weakness in my body, For some reason, I had no energy to speak anymore, and my mouth felt as though it had been locked shut. I had been betrayed… I had been crushed by someone once again.

My hopes had been destroyed.

And why shouldn't they have been?

Being loved by someone else was nothing but a fantasy for me: only regular people could actually have something so beautiful.

"Serena..." Sam sighed, lifting a hand as if to touch me. "Look, I didn't mean any of that stuff, I swear... I love you, okay?"

I twitched at the sound of the word _love,_ but when I glanced up at him through my bangs, I knew it was a lie.

His eyes held nothing but concern for his own reputation... but then his hand touched me, and I felt an icy shock sear through my heart. I made an incoherent attempt at saying something aloud, but nothing came out of my mouth: I could do nothing except feel sick with the pain that was spreading through my body. In that moment, there was no sound... aside from my unloved heart shattering into pieces like shards of broken glass.

"Thank you," I finally stated in a somewhat calm voice, giving him a brilliant smile that I knew would never really touch my eyes. "Thank you, Samuel."

"For what?" he asked, looking more than a little startled; his friends came out laughing soon after, but all of them halted when they saw us locked in conversation with each other. "Why the hell are you thanking me? Does this mean you've forgiven me?"

"Never in a million years," I retorted, keeping that smile locked in place. "I'm thanking you because you've finally reminded me why I've always avoided people like _you. _I take back my promise, too... because whatever happens to you is no longer my concern. However, just so you're aware, the 'new age' crap I told you about will happen regardless of how weird you think it is. Have a nice day."

"Oooh," a nearby boy drawled, making me tighten my jaw. "Someone's got an attitude... are you that mad at us for being honest?"

"No," I stated simply; they paused at the sight of my knowing expression. "I knew something like this could never be real from the start. It's just like you said: I'm weird-looking, I'm antisocial, and I'm not someone any sensible guy would ever find attractive. Anyone with a brain would have found Samuel's sudden attraction to me as strange. It was nice pretending to be normal for a while, but now that the jig is up, let's just pretend it never happened. Here are the papers you dropped."

And with that, I handed Sam his schoolwork and walked away from them with my head held high and my shoulders back.

However, the moment they were out of sight, I burst into tears and took off running down the hall at top speed.

I flew into the bathroom and locked myself in one of the stalls, trying to fight back my emotional fit.

I hated crying.

However, I forced myself to stop when the bell rang and left the bathroom after washing my face.

Just as the second bell rang, I woodenly walked inside the calculus classroom.

Just like they always did, everyone's eyes fixed on my face the moment I stepped inside: I shifted uncomfortably under the stares before continuing forward and making my way over to my desk. Christopher, surprisingly, kept from making any jokes whatsoever and merely stared at me with a sullen frown for some reason. I could hear the whispers and snickers erupting as I sat down and scooted in, but I tried to pretend like it didn't bother me.

"Charity, wake up! The witch is here!" Tiffany Walt whispered, poking my seating partner from behind. "Hurry, girl! It's the White Witch!"

My eyes went blank at the latest 'witch' insult, although I hid my feelings about it fairly well.

"Have you heard?" a girl named Brittany Taylor asked. "I heard from Anthony that she can see the future and put curses on people!"

"Whoa, really?" a boy named Andrew asked, looking kind of startled. "She can?"

"Yeah," Brittany confirmed, smirking in my direction. "Try not to piss her off."

"I think she'd look kind of cute if she didn't try to draw attention to herself," a girl named Alexa Rossetti whispered, leaning forward and joining in on the conversation. "I mean, who would bleach their hair completely white? It's gross! And on top of that, those extensions she's got are totally ridiculous: there's no way that's her natural hair length! It's way too long! The witch already stands out with her reputation, so her sense of style is completely overdoing it."

"It's too bad she won't talk to us," Brittany sighed, twirling her hair around her pinky. "If she opened up to us... we could give her a makeover, right?"

The trio shared a look before they burst out laughing, shredding my self-esteem.

"Nah," they all said at the same time.

_I didn't dye my hair, _I whispered silently, tiny hands balling up into shaking fists, _and anyway, just because I know things doesn't mean I'm a witch!_

"God dammit, will you girls just shut up already?" Charity finally grunted, causing the trio's shrill laughter to fall silent. "You're all annoying the hell out of me... I can't get any rest with you idiots jabbering on and on, so if you would kindly do me a favor and shut your mouths, I'd be much obliged."

I blinked in surprise upon hearing the black girl's insulting words, but my eyes widened almost immediately when Charity sat up.

"Um, _excuse_ me?!" Tiffany scoffed, looking highly offended by the newcomer's statement. "I dare you to say that again."

"Okay, that's perfectly fine with me: you're all _really fucking annoying,"_ the dark-skinned girl enunciated, giving the trio a cold expression. "I know you heard me _that_ time, Barbie bitch, so shut the hell up and quit being an ignorant blonde. I don't believe in curses, there's no such thing as witches, I _seriously_ hate gossip, and if you hadn't noticed already… Serenity is an_ albino_: it's not possible to for a human being to bleach their hair completely white without having it fall out. So, since she _obviously_ has a _lot_ of white hair and it's been the same color from the day you first met her, the only reasonable answer is that she has albinism, which is a rare genetic disease that discolors the pigmentation of someone's body. The color of her eyes and hair are _natural,_ so stop bothering me already."

"I… you... why did you…?" I squeaked, staring at her with huge eyes and an open mouth. "Charity..."

"Don't mistake my words for kindness," the black girl grunted, giving me a secret smile before putting her head down again. "I just wanted them to shut up."

I remained silent and didn't respond: the image of her friendly grin had locked my mouth closed.

"Sorry I'm late: I had trouble getting my car started this morning," Mr. Kenton sighed, yawning as he walked into the room. "Anyway, as you all should know from yesterday's agenda, we're going to be pairing up into partners to prepare for tomorrow's test. I want you to team up with the person sitting beside you and start with the flash cards that all of you should have made last night."

_Here we go again,_ I murmured silently, watching as our teacher sat down. Not even five minutes passed before something hit me on the back of the head, but when I looked down and found a crumpled piece of paper resting on my hand, I cocked my head to the side and picked it up. Carefully smoothing it out, I took a curious peek at it, but the second I saw what was written, my heart lurched and I stiffened. _Why don't you go study black magic instead of math?_

I instantly tore the paper into pieces before stuffing the remnants inside my desk.

After that, I buried my head in my arms and waited until the time when my classes would be over. Even then things were thrown at me, but I somehow found a way to ignore the bullies by breathing deeply until the lunch bell rang. Still, I snatched my stuff and zipped out of the room the moment I heard the buzz.

The saddest part was the fact that this was a normal day for me.

However, for the very first time in my memory, I was actually called out by my teacher at the end of the day.

Everyone in the room was surprised, as well, since I normally had the best grades.

"Miss Primrose, you are to report to me after class," Mr. Ross called after the bell rang, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I need to speak with you about something that was brought to my attention, so kindly remain in your seat until I get back."

"Okay," I mumbled, staring at my desk with an expression if dismay: everyone who'd been on their way out thus remained in the hallway with expressions of curiosity and excitement. I knew for a fact that whatever was about to go down would most likely be spread around the school if it was interesting… and that seriously made me feel sick to my stomach. After a few moments of staring at my desk, Charity tapped my shoulder, so I looked up. "Yes?"

"I'm going to meet April on the school rooftop," Charity stated, shouldering her bag. "Could you wait for me by the front entrance? I want to talk to you."

"Sure," I mumbled inaudibly, shaking my head as the black girl left the classroom; after a few moments of waiting, I looked out the window… but soon after I felt another poke coming from behind. I didn't even bother looking at the person, irritated as I was. "Excuse me, but can I help you? Class is over, you know..."

"Oi, you could at least look at me when you're responding," Christopher grunted, sounding a little irritable; when I slowly turned around, I found myself staring straight into a set of fierce green eyes. "Why do you let everyone bully you? I haven't seen you do a single thing to stop them, let alone speak up about it."

"I tried to make them stop harassing me in the beginning," I calmly explained, turning back around, "but I quit after that little stunt you pulled with my song. There was no point since you're the second most popular boy in school, and what you laugh at... everyone else laughs at, too. Catch my drift?"

For several moments, there was nothing but silence… then a scrape met my ears and I glanced over my shoulder to see Chris heading for the doors with a rigid posture and red ears. Several students parted and let him through, but since he didn't look back, I folded my hands and let out a sigh. For several unpleasant moments, I waited for Mr. Ross to come back.

However, that's when the feeling hit my stomach.

In that moment, I knew something terrible was about to happen.

I stiffened when I felt a draft of air tickling the back of my neck and a presence suddenly entered my awareness.

I felt, rather than heard, the breath of air that the person behind me took.

_I don't want to see…_ I whispered silently, heart speeding up and pounding against my chest; the world around me faded out and a ringing noise filled my ears, making me see red and black spots. _I don't want to see whoever is behind m_e…

Unfortunately, I felt as though dark and shadowy hands were reaching out to grab me from behind, so I steeled myself and turned around. My amethyst eyes widened in shock when I beheld a man with waist-length platinum blonde hair: his skin was almost as pale as my own, and his eyes were the color of liquid silver. He was wearing a red and black outfit that seemed distinctly European, and from what I could see, he was also abnormally tall.

My heart skipped a beat: I didn't want to have anything to do with him.

I knew something terrible would happen if he came anywhere near me.

"W-who are you?" I abruptly demanded, purposely catching the attention of several students. "How'd you get in here?"

"I've finally found you... I have been searching for you for a long time," the man replied in a blank tone; when he started moving towards me, I jumped out of my seat and turned so I was facing him. "Now that I've got you, the time has arrived for you to fly home."

"W-what...?" I scoffed, staring at him with a blank expression. "Excuse me for being blunt, but who the hell are you and what on earth are you _talking_ about?"

"Please, you must come with me," he stated, continuing to move towards me. "I will explain later."

"Eh?! No way!" I instantly shouted, shaking my head in alarm. "I'm not going anywhere with you! I don't know you, so get back!"

_"I sense a dragon,"_ a disembodied voice whispered, making my heart jump. _"It is approaching."_

"What the hell was that?!" I squeaked, looking around in fright. "Who just said that?! Seriously, where did it come from?!"

"We were followed here," the blonde man stated simply, refusing to lower his eyes. "Come with me."

"Seriously, what's going on?!" I stammered, glancing at the students who were still in the room; however, when I realized that Tiffany, Alexa, and Brittany were still present and ogling at the scene in front of them, I let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, guys, look… I know you don't like me, but _this_ is going too far! Make this guy go away now! He's really scaring me, okay?! You win! I'm scared!"

"Uh, excuse me?" Tiffany drawled, cocking her hip with an offended expression. _"We_ don't know this guy. What's his deal?"

"How the heck should _I_ know! I've never even seen him before!" I snapped, flailing my arms; however, my shoulders twitched in alarm when he took another step forward, and I immediately moved back, mouth trembling as I tried to keep some distance between us. "Hey, s-stop it! Go away!"

"We must not delay any longer," the blonde man droned, moving forward and snatching my slender wrist; I squealed loudly and locked up in fright since his touch burned like ice, but the sound caused several of the students standing in the doorway to jump. My entire body juddered since the man's skin was colder than dry ice on a winter's night. "It is not safe here... you must come with me: we cannot waste time."

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Let go of me!" I shrieked, struggling to get out of his freezing grasp. "EEEK! Someone, help! Go get a teacher, please! _Ow! _That _hurts!_ Let me _go!"_

"There's no time to explain," the blonde man urged, jerking her forward with cold silver eyes. "You _will_ come with me."

"NOOOOOOO!" I screeched, jerking my hand out of his grasp with all of my strength and stumbling away from him; I ended up tripping over a chair and smacked into the wall, but at least I managed to stay on my feet. "S-stay back! Don't touch me again! JUST GO AWAY! O-okay?!"

"F-Frosty, hey... um, what's going on?" Brittany suddenly squeaked, watching as the man approached the cowering girl. "Hey, um, is… is this honestly for real, girl?! I mean... do you really need us to go get a teacher?! I can't tell if you're being serious right now!"

"I'm serious! I'm _dead_ serious!" I wailed, shakily picking up a math textbook and throwing it at the blonde man; when he merely ducked and continued moving forward without breaking stride, I backed into the corner and pressed myself against the wall. "GET AWAY FROM ME! Hurry up and go get Mr. Ross! Please!"

"How do we know this is for real?" Tiffany asked, glancing at Alex with nervous eyes. "Couldn't this be a hoax?"

"How should I know?" the other girl hissed. "This is totally insane!"

"Get back!" I shouted, frantically scrabbling for the nearest object; I then happened upon a chalkboard eraser, which I threw with all of my strength... but when he tilted his head and dodged it with no change in expression, my knees started shaking and I felt as though she would pass out. "Stop it! Don't take another step! I-I don't know who you are, but I won't hesitate to hurt you if you don't leave me alone! Just go away! Don't come any closer!"

"Okay, it's official: this isn't a hoax," Tiffany muttered, bolting out out of sight. "I'll be right back, Frosty! Just hold on!"

"Hurry!" I cried, hunching my shoulders and cowering down when the man slammed his hands down on either side of me. "Eeep! Help!"

"There is no mistake here," the stranger stated, looking straight into my terrified eyes. "It is you: the last princess."

"You're wrong! I'm not a princess! You've got the wrong girl!" I wailed, flailing my arms. "I don't know you, so go away! Leave me alone already!"

"How stubborn," the man sighed, narrowing his silver eyes; when he bent down on one knee and lowered his head with no expression whatsoever, I nearly jumped out of my own skin. "I swear never to desert my post before your throne. I am your loyal servant."

"W-what are you doing?!" I whispered, staring at him with hunched shoulders and wide eyes. "S-stop it! Just go away already!"

"Accept it!" the blonde man barked, making me flinch. "If you value your life, accept it!"

"I-I accept!" I stammered, cowering against the wall with terror in my heart. "N-now go away already! I accepted whatever you wanted me to, alright?!"

"What's going on here?!" Mr. Ross demanded, finally shouldering his way into the classroom with Tiffany close behind; however, the moment he took in the scene before him, his eyes widened and he blinked in surprise. "Excuse me, but who are you? Explain to me why you're harassing one of my students, otherwise I'm calling the authorities and letting them handle this situation."

"This is none of your concern," the blonde retorted, glancing at the man with no change in his expression. "Leave this place."

Mr. Ross and everyone standing behind him stiffened in total surprise, since nobody had believed the guy would stand against a teacher: several of the smarter students left the entrance and hastily ran down the hall, sprinting at top speed towards the main offices; nobody wanted to deal with a lunatic, especially if he had some sort of concealed weapon on him. Rue merely stared at her teacher with fearful eyes.

"What did you just say to me?" Mr. Ross demanded, glancing at Rue's terrified expression with furrowed brows. "While she's under the roof of this school, that girl is _all_ of my concern: she is one of _my_ students, and _her_ safety was entrusted to _me._ Now, can you rationally explain to me how a man your size managed to back a high school girl into a corner and still seem innocent? Speak up, sir! Now!"

"If you care so much about her safety," the blonde man stated in a low voice, "let her come with me: it is not safe here."

"What do you mean it's not safe?" the teacher scoffed, then turned and looked at me. "Miss Primrose, what's going on?"

I was just about to open my mouth and tell him when a sudden feeling of danger swept throughout my stomach. Eyes going blank, I instinctively dropped to all fours and covered my head with both hands, cowering down against the wall. A split second later, every single window in the classroom exploded in a shower of glass and wood, sending deadly shards flying and eliciting several screams. For several moments, there was nothing but complete silence in the school halls outside of the classroom. Then… a high-pitched screech of terror filled the air.

My scream.


	5. Chapter 4: Berk

**Chapter Four: Berk**

I only stopped screaming once my lungs were empty... and even then, my mouth remained open in horror.

The entire classroom had been completely demolished within the span of a second: students lay on the floor with desks and chairs on top of them, some bleeding from the flying glass, others bruised from the wood that had flown off the wall. My entire body quaked as I took in all of the upturned desks, but when I shakily twisted around and looked behind me, I felt the blood draining out of my face: every single window had somehow imploded into the classroom.

It looked as though a bomb had gone off.

"W-what?!" I spluttered, looking up at the unaffected blonde man in horror. "W-w-what just happened here?! T-the windows! They're gone!"

"S-Serenity…" Mr. Kenton hissed, clutching my ankle and lifting his head; my breath caught in terror when I realized that his left cheek had been sliced almost completely in half. "You knew... you ducked! You knew this would happen, didn't you?! Was this all your doing?!"

"No..." I whispered, stiffening in horror when she glanced at all of my injured classmates. "No! It wasn't me! NO! I swear!"

"Liar!" the man spat, fist tightening on my slender ankle. "Liar! You did this to us! You... you witch!"

"NO!" I wailed, clutching my head in horror. "I DIDN'T DO IT!"

However, when the blonde man touched me again, I lost it.

Screeching like a madwoman, I jerked my leg free of my teacher's grasp and bolted for the door with enormous eyes: my silver hair was blasted off my shoulders and sent flying behind me in a gleaming wave as I sprinted out of the room and took off down the hall at top speed; several students watched with terrified expressions as I flew past them with the blonde man chasing after her. I let out an even louder shriek when I realized that I was being chased: heart thudding, I ran as fast as I could, breathing heavily as my dress shoes clacked against the tile.

_Charity, please,_ I silently wailed, panting as I sprinted down every hall I could find. _Please! Someone, help!  
_

However, when I skidded to a halt at the double stairways that led to the upper and lower floors, I instantly started heading towards the ground.

The blonde man gripped my wrist and prevented me from moving.

"OW! Let me go!" I screeched, struggling against his powerful grip. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Let go of me! Charity! Charity, help me! SOMEONE!"

"Not that way," the man snapped, making me flinch. "There are too many people down there! Go to the roof!"

"What do you mean?!" I demanded, still struggling to get away from him. However, my words were cut off by the sound of nearby glass exploding, followed by two high-pitched screams; I instantly whirled around and froze when I saw two girls lying unconscious in the stairwell, covered in glittering shards. I stumbled backwards in shock, fully realizing for the first time that something seriously wrong was going on. "W-what just happened to them?!"

"If you do not wish to harm anymore people," the man rapped out, glaring into my eyes, "you must go to the roof!"

"What the hell is going on?!" I wailed, tearing past him and sprinting past a few more confused-looking students on my way up the stairs. I ran up two complete flights until I hit the entrance to the rooftop. A fierce wind assaulted me the moment I stepped outside, but once I was out in the open, I doubled over to catch my breath. "What... the hell… is happening around here?! Why did all the… classroom windows… blow up?!"

"Frosty?" a familiar voice choked, making me jump in surprise; I whipped around to see April and Charity sitting on the building that served as the rooftop door's foundation. "What are you doing here? And who the heck are you clinging to?!"

"Help me!" I instantly shrieked, struggling when the man gripped her wrist again. "OW! Help! He's a psycho! The classroom _blew up_ after he came in!"

_"_Wait,_ what's_ going on?!" April exclaimed, instantly getting to her feet. "What do you mean the classroom blew up?"

"All the windows exploded!" I wailed, bursting into hysterical tears. "Help me! Make this freak let me go!"

"God, this is fucking annoying," Christopher suddenly muttered, slinking out from behind the rear rooftop with a lazy yawn. "I can't take a nap anywhere around here, not even the damn roof… this is getting pathetic. I'm too tired for all this drama."

"Chris! We gotta get out of here!" Samuel suddenly shouted, tearing onto the rooftop before skidding to a halt. "Oh, shit... he's already up here..."

Christopher shook his head and glanced at them in confusion when he realized what was going on, countenance becoming a bit apprehensive.

"What the hell did I just walk into?" the boy muttered, shaking his head in confusion. "Am I dreaming or something?"

"Let go of Frosty!" Charity barked, moving to the edge of the rooftop; the stranger's grip instantly tightened to the point where my wrist popped, causing me to let out an involuntary squeal of pain. "Hey! You're hurting her! I swear to God, let my friend go right now or I'll kick your sorry ass!"

However, every single person stopped talking when a deafening roar split the air.

Charity glanced up only a split second before I did, but both of us turned a sickly shade of white when we saw what was resting in the air above us: a serpentine creature the size of a small building was plummeting towards us from the sky... and it had wings the size of a small skyscraper. My heart nearly halted and my entire body instantly went limp: I was staring something clean out of a mythology book clean in the face.

"I-is that...?" April hiccuped, choking on her own words. "Is that a… _dragon?!"_

Her question was answered when the beast descended and started shredding the rooftop with its claws.

A fierce wind exploded from its wings, causing me... and everyone aside from the stranger... to let out a cry and cover our faces. I twitched when the blonde man wrapped his arms around my torso and dove out of the way: the sound of glass exploding somewhere below and more screams caught my attention.

It was the speed of the wings causing the implosions.

The creature was moving fast enough to send air shooting through the glass and make it explode.

"What is that thing?!" I finally screeched, looking up at it with a horrified expression. "It can't even be real, can it?!"

"It's a dragon," the blonde man replied, speaking as though it were the simplest question in the world; the albino girl twitched and looked at him with disturbed amethyst eyes, wondering how he was acting so calm. "Asalam! Come!"

My jaw dropped when the air in front of me rippled in a circular manner: only a split second later, an enormous hole shredded itself into existence and another dragon stampeded out of it. I instantly shook my head and stared at the rip that had opened up in the air right in front of me, but soon the dust obscured my range of vision and the image faded with a ripple. Within seconds, I was unable to tell whether I had really been seeing things... but unfortunately, the two beasts in front of me were much too real for comfort.

"W-what _are_ those things?!" I cried, scrabbling backwards in alarm. "What the hell is going on around here?!"

"W-w-w-wha…?" Charity squawked, staring at the fighting dragons in shock. "What in the... what's happening?!"

"This is all a dream," April whispered, clutching her head with enormous teal eyes. "This is totally a dream!"

"Holy shit," Christopher croaked, staring at everything with huge eyes and an open mouth. "Dude, what the fuck?!"

"Kwilanna!" the blonde man barked, lifting his hand. "Come!"

"H-huh?!" I whimpered, staring at the ground with large eyes as a huge hole opened up on the rooftop; I gaped as a brilliant light exploded from the portal and shot towards the sky… but when it vanished, a womanly creature with several features resembling a butterfly was standing in front of us with her arms folded neatly. "W-what the heck is _that?!_ Is it human?!"

"She is Kwilanna," the blonde man replied, glancing at me with cold silver eyes. "She will help you."

Once again, he had responded as though his simple words explained everything.

"We have to get out of here! Now!" April stammered, shaking Charity's arm. "Come on!"

"No," Charity retorted, seeming to be frozen in place. "I fell asleep in class... this isn't real."

"Seriously?!" the pink-haired girl yipped, looking utterly mortified. "This isn't a dream! if you have enough courage to watch, help Frosty! She's our friend!"

"It's not real," the black girl retorted, giving the peppy punk a dazed expression. "We don't need to save her."

"Urgh, fine!" April snapped, hefting her school skirt with both hands and stepping away. "If you won't help her, _I_ will!"

"Hey, wait! Bitch, are you crazy?!" the black girl squawked, eyes widening when April jumped down from the roof and crashed into Christopher… who merely fell onto his knees and continued gaping at the scene in front of him. "April! Come back!"

"Hey! Leave Frosty alone!" the pink-haired girl shouted, running towards the blonde man and the butterfly-creature. "Get off of her!"

The man didn't respond due to the fact that he was busy pressing something into my hands. I looked down at it with stricken eyes, unable to process half of what was really happening to me. After a few moments of blinking at the object in my palms, my eyes widened in alarm and my head flew back up to stare at the blonde man's face: he looked extremely calm despite my hysteria.

"Take this sword and keep it close to you," the blonde stated softly. "You are the Princess, and this is proof of my loyalty."

"Princess?" I squeaked, looking down at the object again in alarm. "Me?! No way!"

"Who are you?!" April shouted, stomping her foot in anger. "What's going around here?!"

"I am Michael," the blonde man called, silver eyes flashing gold for a moment. "You need not know more."

"Please! Explain what's going on here!" I cried, shakily holding out the sword for him to take again; he made no move to do so. "Tell me what's happening!"

"I've come to take you back to Berk," the man explained, giving her a firm look. "Your true home world."

"What the fuck are you talkin' about?!" Charity squawked, jumping off of the roof and gripping my frail arm. "Screw all the crazy talk about worlds and whatnot! The dragon that just attacked us shouldn't even exist! It's not possible, so how the hell did it get here?!"

"It is a creature native to our homeland," Michael explained, looking into the boy's eyes. "It followed me here."

"SAM, WHY?! I didn't think you were serious this morning!" Christopher groaned, covering his face with both hands. "You actually slipped acid into my sandwich?!"

"I did _not!"_ the redhead squeaked. "I did not! I swear! I see it, too!"

"Slay the dragon with your sword," Michael finally commanded, looking straight at me. "End its existence like all true Vikings are meant to."

"Me?!" I shrieked in horror, looking at the weapon in her hands. "Oh, _hell_ no! No way, dude! There is _no way_ in _hell! I'm not a viking!"_

"Hurry!" the blonde man barked, looking up at the giant dragon with intense silver eyes. "It's coming back!"

"Why can't _you_ kill that thing?!" April cried, fearfully dancing from foot to foot. "I mean, you're a guy, right?!"

"I cannot shed the blood of another," Michael whispered, narrowing his eyes in anger. "It is one of the ultimate Laws."

"I can't do it!" I wailed, throwing the sword on the ground. "I don't want to kill it! I can't kill it!"

"Kwilanna, take her somewhere safe," the blonde man commanded; almost immediately, the butterfly-creature whisked behind me and wrapped her furry arms around my waist. I yelped in alarm when I was swept off my feet, frantically kicking my legs at the air in an attempt to get back down. My breath hitched when the creature abruptly crouched down.

"No! Stop!" I shrieked, frantically flailing for Charity's hand. "Help! Don't let them take me! Charity, help!"

"This doesn't concern her, or them," Michael chided, giving me a fierce look. "They do not need to come."

"I won't go anywhere without my friends!" the girl screeched, squeezing her eyes shut. "Don't take me away from here!"

For several moments, there was nothing but the sound of wind and otherworldly roars to fill the air.

"Strongheart, Ironjaw, Steelclaw, Skyfire..." the blonde man called, summoning more of those freakish dragons. "Take them all with us."

"W-whoa! No! Put me down!" Christopher screamed, eyes bugging out of his head when a dragon ripped its way out of nowhere and gripped his shoulders before tugging him off the ground; April shrieked when she, Sam, and Charity were similarly pulled off the ground, but all five of us starting screaming hysterically when the dragons flew into the air and carried us hundreds of feet into the sky. "Ack! Let go of me! WHOA! I TAKE IT BACK! DON'T LET GO!"

"Daddy!" April screeched, flailing her legs at the open air before bursting into tears. "Daddy, help me! Someone!"

Sam did nothing but scream at the top of his lungs as the school campus dropped away, and Charity flailed so much it was shocking she didn't fall.

And me?

I simply buried my face in the furry woman-creature's chest and tried not to pass out.

I felt my hair whipping around as I was carried somewhere far away from the school, but I was so terrified of the chasm below me that I refused to open my eyes and see what was going on around me. I didn't even open them when it started raining and the sound of lake surf met my ears. I couldn't stop shaking and my face seemed glued to the furry creature's torso.

"We have arrived," a feminine voice whispered, reverberating in my ears. "Fear not, for you are safe... for now."

"Put me down," I whined, not moving a muscle. "I'll believe it when my feet are on solid ground!"

After a few moments of silence, I felt my weight being shifted around and my dress shoes abruptly touched a hard surface.

My pink eyes flew open wide and I instantly sank down to my knees, breathing hard and pupils dilated: I felt as though I had gone into a severe state of shock. After taking a moment to catch my breath, I glanced up and saw Sam, Charity, April, and Christopher all struggling to breathe. April was doubled over, pink hair disheveled and knees shaking violently; Sam was on his knees and wheezing with enormous eyes; Charity was on her back, hyperventilating, and Christopher was lying flat on the ground, clawing at the stone with shaking fingers in an attempt to get a firm hold on the flat stone.

They honestly looked sick to their stomachs, and I didn't blame any of them in the least.

I was having trouble keeping my own lunch down.

"W-what just happened to us...?" April demanded, looking up at Rue through her soaked pink hair. "What happened here?!"

"Why are you asking me?!" I wailed, pushing my sopping silver hair out of my eyes. "I have no clue what's going on!"

"This is impossible!" Charity heaved, dizzily rolling on her side. "The laws of physics don't support it! Dragons don't exist! It's insanity!"

"It's happening, though!" April shouted, glaring at all of us in horror. "Impossible or not, _insane_ or not, it's really happening!"

"Are you all right?" a familiar voice asked, making me choke and jump backwards; all four of my classmates whirled to the side and stared at Michael right along with me, since he had somehow appeared on the stone pier without warning. "If so, we must leave now."

As if to emphasize his words, an inhuman roar came from over the lake, causing all of us to jump in alarm.

I whirled around and looked in the direction of Lake Michigan with frightened violet eyes, mouth trembling and shoulders shaking; Sam and Christopher both stood up and backed away from the edge of the pier, struggling to stand up straight despite their shaking knees. April merely stumbled backwards and fell on her butt, covering her mouth with both hands and staring at the giant bird that was now flying towards them. Charity remained where she was, curled up in a little ball. A flash of lightning illuminated the monstrosity from behind, making all of us cringe.

"P-please, help us!" I begged, looking up at Michael with huge eyes. "Please! Make that thing stop attacking us!"

"Take this," Michael stated, holding out the sword once again. "If we are to survive, you must kill the dragon."

"I-I can't do something like that!" I squeaked, frantically shaking her head. "I can't kill it!"

"Give it to me!" Samuel snapped, violently shoving me aside. "I'll do it!"

"The Sword of Salvation can only be wielded by her," Michael firmly explained. "It will not draw for another soul."

"Why?!" Sam snarled, face twisting up in anger. "She obviously doesn't know how to fight! How could she possibly kill that thing?!"

"Sam is right!" I exclaimed, flailing my arms. "I have no idea how to use a sword!"

"Then I will lend you the soul of a warrior," the blonde man stated simply, making all five of us freeze. "Samael! Come!"

I glanced down at the ground when something shot out of it, but I let out a shriek when I was engulfed by a smokey substance: my arms immediately snapped down to my sides, pinned by something unseen, and I felt as though I were losing my breath. Everyone jumped away from me when I struggled and screamed again, fighting to get away from the creature that had latched itself onto my body.

Everybody jumped when I arched my back and let out a wail.

"EEK! No! No, no, no! Stop it! Stop!" I screeched, fighting to move her arms. "NO! Let go! Get it off! Get it off! Get it off! It's hurting me!"

"S-Serena!" Sam squawked, staring at the creature when it entered my body through the back of my head. "Serena, what's …?"

"Help me!" I squealed; however, my eyes snapped open when the tendrils disappeared. "H-huh? It's gone…?"

"I feel like I'm gonna puke," Christopher groaned, closing his eyes. "I want to wake up from this nightmare."

"H-hey... where did it go?!" I shakily demanded, turning around and staring at Michael with horrified eyes. "Take that thing off me right now! I want it gone!"

_The dragon comes..._ a voice suddenly whispered, making my eyes widen in alarm. _It is coming._

It was coming from inside my mind.

"Oh, _hell_ no!" I shrieked, covering my ears with both hands. "No! No, no, no! This is _not_ happening! I'm hearing a voice in my head! Help me! Help!"

"Here," the man murmured, holding out the sword. "Take this."

"Fuck you! I won't do it!" I sobbed, shaking her head in protest; however, my eyes widened with a jolt when my arm started moving on its own, taking the sword against my will and drawing it from its sheath. My face drained of color and tears spilled down my cheeks when I held the weapon out in front of me with a practiced stance. "H-huh?! W-w-what's going on?! My body is moving on its own! Charity! April, help! Make it stop! I can't stop! Please, somebody, help me! My body won't... it won't... no! No more!"

"It's coming back!" April shrieked, pointing at the giant dragon. "What do we do?!"

"Whatever you do, don't close your eyes," Michael whispered, icy breath tickling my ear. "I leave the rest to you."

"No! No, wait!" I shrieked, looking at him with a terrified expression before staring straight ahead once again; my pink eyes widened in horror when a gale of ferocious wind blasted my wet hair out of my face, for the beast was soaring at me at an impossible speed. I could see the lake water behind it flying towards the sky as it soared towards me, and I felt my heart thudding madly as my arms drew back... as if to swing at it. "No way... this can't be happening... no! NOOOOO!"

My heart stopped when I felt my arms swinging the blade.

My mind went numb when I heard the sound of metal rending scales and flesh.

The sound of a dragon's screech cutting off and going silent forever.

Then nothing but red...

Red rivers that soon stained the white pier with an ended life...

I stared at the dead creature with a stricken expression, every muscle in my body shaking violently and eyes wide with the shock of what I'd just done: my mouth was open wide and my breathing was irregular, but the only thing I could see was the red that had stained the blade and my entire left sleeve. Crimson rivers trailed off the edge of the pier and into Lake Michigan as the rain washed them away, but no amount of rain would ever take away the memory of what I'd just done.

I felt my entire body go numb in an instant.

I had become a killer.

"This is not the only enemy pursuing us," Michael stated evenly. "You must show your trust and come along with me."

"No..." I whispered, not even registering my body's actions anymore; I dropped the sword and stumbled away from the dragon's corpse, muscles shaking violently and eyes full of hysteria. Without another word, I turned around and stumbled over to Charity, ignoring how she flinched away in favor of collapsing into her arms. I buried my face in the girl's soaked blazer, shuddering violently and trying to erase the memories of the creature's death from my mind; I couldn't do it, and that one simple fact caused me to burst into a fit of hysterical tears. "It wasn't my fault… not my fault… the red rivers… it wasn't me… I didn't want to... no more..."

"Samael, shift into your dormant state," Michael commanded, stepping forward and gripping my shoulder. "She has seen enough."

However, without warning, the dragon's tail lashed out at knocked the blonde man into the Lake.

My classmates froze when the dragon slowly turned its head and growled before falling still yet again.

Silence reigned free for almost thirty minutes afterwards.

Charity sank down with me resting in her arms... and soon after, the black girl slowly covered her face and broke down: the sound of her sobs filled the air, rending the storming silence of the lake shore. Nearby, April lowered her head and also started crying, which had Samuel's eyes filling with tears and made Christopher start bawling: soon, all five of us were crying our eyes out, not really able to stop after what we'd just been put through. We cried for so long that the the storm grew more intense and the sun sank deep below the horizon. Then the five of us huddled close to each other, shivering violently and staring off into space.

The dragon's corpse was still lying in the middle of the Chicago Pier.

"Let's get out of here..." Charity whispered, slowly getting to her feet and hugging her shivering body with unsteady arms. "I want to go home..."

The four of them all got up, and by some sort of unspoken agreement, attempted to go separate ways.

However, just as I stood up, I felt a clap of thunder strike the air.

And then, right before my very eyes, the entire universe ripped apart.

It was like a fade—like on a television show when they fade from one picture to another: one minute you're seeing one image, and then slowly another one emerges from beneath the first. Only this wasn't television, and this was happening in three dimensions. The world in front of me had sight, sound, touch, and smell: it had the breeze that smelled of rain, it had the sounds of stormy water roaring against the shore, it had the feeling of deeply chilled air, and it seemed to squeeze the breath out of my lungs.

In one sickening moment, my perception on reality began to shimmer—as if my life had all been nothing but a reflection in a bowl of water that had suddenly been disturbed. It shimmered and sent a wave of fright through me, because I suddenly realized that this wasn't normal. The stormclouds began to twist and the pier seemed to curl in on itself. The ground opened up underneath my feet—opened until I could see buried rocks pushing up beneath me—but somehow, I didn't fall. The sky split apart even as I watched with enormous eyes: the gray-blue curtain drew back to reveal black space and a sun burning too close.

The clouds boiled madly around the edges.

However, in all of this twisted horror—all of this hallucinatory madness—I looked ahead and saw my classmates staggering and turning to look at me.

Or rather, at something behind me.

When I slowly turned and looked over my shoulder, my eyes widened and my heart dropped through the floor.

The choppy surface of the lake swelled up, rising higher and higher—almost as if it would crash down on me in a tidal wave. It rose, and as it did, the chop roughened, lengthened, and reformed itself into a mountain of colossal orange scales. The mountain pulled up and back, bringing more into view: a spiked head with a set of brown and gold eyes the size of backyard swimming pools. Those eyes were intelligent, cold, and malicious... but then, to my horror, the snout of a dragon's head rose out of the waves behind me.

I blinked three times in a row before letting out a terrified scream.

Then I took off towards my classmates.

The dragon's mouth opened wide—revealing teeth that looked like they might have been more than six feet long—and lunged.

I heard it coming... and since I knew all I could do was lessen the pain, I skidded to a halt and turned away from my friends, facing the monstrosity as it charged at me. I held my arms up in a futile gesture of resistance, but the dragon's jaws closed around me and I flinched, waiting to be skewered. It did close its jaws around me, but gently—holding me helpless and limp. I immediately felt my heart palpitate, and suddenly I was terrified.

I didn't know why... but in that moment, I realized just how much danger I was in.

"Samuel!" I shrieked hysterically, squeezing my eyes shut. "Sam! Help! HELP ME!"

The moment I screamed his name, the world around me returned to normal with a sickening impact to the air, like a clap of thunder without the sound. The ground became the ground again, and all of this was ending with the dragon—that monstrous creature who had, out of the blue, risen up out of Lake Michigan—sinking slowly back into the water. In a few seconds, everything I held dear would be gone.

"Serenity!" Samuel screamed, eyes widening in fright. "Don't you dare even think about taking her! You can't have her! Let her go!

"Samuel, stop!" Charity screeched, trying to grab his arm when he bolted and missing entirely. "Don't do it! Don't go after that thing!"

"Like hell!" Christopher cried, sounding almost manic due to his hysteria. "That thing's got our friend, you crazy bitch!"

Then Christopher was running, too—and April behind him, and Charity behind her.

They were all running after me, their footsteps pounding on the cement block.

However, that's when the water beneath us opened up and my friends were suddenly gone.

"SAMUEL!" I screamed with an outstretched hand, voice echoing everywhere as the world around me disintegrated in a flash of blinding light. "NOOOO!"

I let out a shriek when the dragon fell down through a whirlpool; I had an abrupt mental flash of Ariel falling into the sea as Ursula towered above her before the light engulfed me, but this was much more real. I was no mermaid… and this was no dream… which meant that I was in very real trouble. My stomach flipped and she let out a choking gasp as her sense of up and down shifted in a dizzying manner, and all of a sudden I was being carried towards the sky.

I closed my eyes and tried not to vomit as I was carried out of the vortex, but once my head stopped spinning, I glanced down at Lake Michigan.

Only to discover an odd-looking ocean in its place.

My jaw instantly dropped and I stiffened in the dragon's mouth.

"What happened to the Lake?!" I wailed, looking at the water's surface in horror. "Where am I?! HELP ME! HELP! HELP! PLEASE, HELP ME!"

The girl flinched when she a dark shape suddenly swooped past her, making the dragon who was happily carrying her along halt with a startled grunt: I let out a startled squeak when a bright blue light suddenly lit up the world in front of me... but then I was thrown forward so roughly that it was almost as though the beast had collided head on with a wall. Then the dragon opened its mouth and let out a roar that blasted me clean out of its mouth.

My stomach flipped maddeningly as I was thrown into the air... but before I could grasp what was happening, my violet eyes flew open wide.

Quite suddenly... nothing was beneath me.

"Huh?" I whispered, expression going blank as the world tilted upright. "No way..."

I began to fall towards the earth in what felt like slow motion to my dazed mind: I stared vacantly at the sky, thigh-length hair billowing around my frame like a cloud of platinum. My arms slowly stretched out toward the dark sky—seeming to be calling to the heavens even as my school clothes billowed around. It had all begun so quickly, yet somehow time had come creeping to a halt in order to capture this moment and burn it into the folds of history.

Then I heard my own horrified scream as I plummeted down towards the sea.

Soon there was nothing: no sight, no sound, no taste or touch or thought.

Only the sensation of falling through an endless night.

I slammed into the ocean headfirst and instantly tried to take a breath of air, which only caused a large amount of salt water to flood my nostrils and choke me. My first coherent thought was to get back to the surface and take a deep breath before I drowned—but I soon realized that I was caught in the middle a raging ocean current. Even though my school clothes were weighing me down, I frantically struggled to kick my way to the surface, but before I could make it there a huge wave slammed into my body and I flipped around like crazy: I floundered as the salt burned my eyes and flooded the back of my throat...

Then my head unexpectedly broke the surface.

I just managed to take a breath of air and let out a short-lived shriek before another monstrous wave slammed down on me, sending me spinning beneath the waves a second time. I was thrown around beneath and above the ocean so many times that I lost count of the jarring blows. I couldn't feel my body anymore, not even when the waves slowly eased up and I felt something beneath my feet. By the time the battering ended, I was freezing.

I lay on the sand for what felt like hours, staring up at the smokey sky with a vacant expression.

I could hear the sound of crashing waves... I could feel the spray of the ocean on her face... yes, I could, but I could barely move. When I had the energy to sit up, I slowly turned over on my side and raised my head. I had been washed onto a sandy beach with my legs half in and out of the water. A big wave broke against the shore, washing sand from tendrils of my cloud-white hair.

My whole body hurt: the ache in my arms was excruciating, my legs felt as though I'd just run a marathon ten times over, my head was pounding with a migraine, and somehow... despite the pain, I had survived the fall into the ocean and made it to the shore. Where this ocean had come from was anyone's guess, but it was definitely salt water... not fresh water. I was just about to crawl to my feet when I realized that my muscles were so stiff that I could barely move... so I lay back down in the sand and took one deep breath after another.

Little by little, the pain began to subside.

When motion returned to my limbs, I sat up and dusted the sand off of my chest: my right hand was still gripping the hilt of the sword, so I apparently hadn't dropped it even during my fight to stay alive in the raging ocean. I examined the rest of my body and found no injuries aside from the scratches and bruises that I'd gotten during the fall. It was really nothing out of the ordinary, so I ran my hands across my face and shakily stood up.

A thick haze of smoke had drifted across the early morning sky, staining it black.

"What kind of nightmare am I stuck in...?" I whispered, looking down at my soaked school uniform. "Where am I?"

That's when it came back to me... the fierce struggle with the beast, the blood drenching her... the dragon's breath as it held her in its mouth.

The sound of the waves as she fell from the sky.

I immediately threw the sword as far from me as I could, stomach lurching violently: I then sank to my knees, bursting into hysterical tears as I vomited onto the sand. Sobbing, I sank down onto the ground and crawled back into the ocean: the water was cold enough to cut me in two, but my only desire was to wash the bloody filth from my face and hands. By the time I returned to my senses, I was shivering so badly I could do little more than crawl.

When I made it back on solid ground and had crawled out of the sandbank, I burst into tears once again: I wept with fear and revulsion, wept until my voice was hoarse, until there were no tears left inside to come out. Then I merely stared off into space with the pain of my own actions slicing my heart to shreds: I had killed another living creature.

I had become a murderer...

I covered my head and curled up into a ball, not even noticing the group of people who'd spotted me.

I felt so sick that I honestly was precariously close to fainting... black and red spots had coated my vision when I looked up and saw a torch.

However, the only thing I was able to make out before my mind went dark was a shock of glossy golden hair and a very pretty, very angular face.

Then... everything went black.


End file.
